Gambling With Fate
by Balin Lord of Moria
Summary: Three-shot. The colorful story of "Woody" Roberts, his love for card playing, risk-taking and gambling, and how the law enforcement of Sonny Bonds and the vengeance of Jessie Bains influenced the end of his career and his life.
1. The Glory Days

**A/N: **This _Police Quest_ fan fiction is a tribute of sorts to one of my favorite minor suspects in the first two _Police Quest_ games.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Police Quest_; Sierra Inc. and former police officer Jim Walls originally created it, and Sierra owns it.

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**Chapter 1: The Glory Days**

One has to look at the bright side of life in order to enjoy it.

So said Woodrow Roberts, nicknamed "Woody," the bartender in the luxurious Hotel Delphoria's cocktail lounge. And it was a good way to meet some interesting people, serving drinks and tables to the well-dressed guests at the place. But this was not the only reason he found it so profitable.

Ever since a man named Frank Sloan had come to the Hotel, he had convinced Woody to serve as a contact man for some shady gambling activities in the backroom. Actually, Woody had been involved in this sort of thing for longer than that, but Sloan had promised to triple the bartender's profits if he helped to send the right people to the back room for some friendly card playing.

Frank would offer him $3000 dollars a day for protecting his illegal gambling activities in Lytton, California. He also let Woody in on his secret identity that he was in fact Jessie Bains, a powerful drug-lord who intended to take over Lytton with his drug trafficking. Woody Roberts, who had always been up for living a glamorous life where it was not legal to do so, and was a risk taker, accepted. Rich people who offered Woody a lot of money would be directed back to a back room where four poker tables stood, and men and women played a variety of poker games for big stakes. There was even another, more private back room where "Frank" and his two most trusted gambling associates, Otto Lipschitz and Gene "The Bambino" Bamboni, would play private games with elite poker players for even bigger stakes. Of course, Woody had to frisk each person who went back there, because Frank wouldn't tolerate anyone trying to arrest or assassinate him during their games, but it was just part of the job, and being a gentleman at heart, Woody didn't mind doing it.

Ah, the life of a man who gambled! Roberts was sometimes a little envious of Frank, Otto, and Gene, as well as the other card players, for having all the fun while he continued to do his simple job as the cocktail lounge's bartender and the back room's contact man, but sometimes, when the flow of customers was slow, Frank and his friends would let Woody come into the poker room and play some cards himself. Woody loved it all: the décor of both rooms, the feel of the chairs and the tables, the beauty of the decks of cards, and the smell of the jackpots that came with each big win. He was also quite a card shark himself, and sometimes he privately wished that he had been living in Las Vegas or Reno, instead of Lytton, where gambling wasn't allowed. Frank/Jessie was quite impressed by the way Woody handled his job, and sometimes upped his rewards to the young bartender. Woody even had the fourth best room to live in at the Hotel Delphoria, fourth only to Gene, Otto, and Jessie, of course, and it was essentially a suite on the top floor, with wall art, a round glass table, a big couch, a big bedroom and bed, and an excellent view.

Yes, life was good for Woodrow Roberts. Each cash payment and every day and night full of fun and games made it worthwhile for him. Little did he know that his life was going to change in ways he never expected it would, in some ways for the better, and in others for the worse.

It would all start with the arrival of a blond man named Jimmy Lee Banksten, or "Whitey," and his girlfriend, "Sweet Cheeks" Marie.


	2. The Arrest and the Case

**Chapter 2: The Arrest and the Case**

It all started so innocently. Marie came into the lounge, got a drink, and sat at one of the tables. A little while later, a young, blond man in a white pimp suit stepped into the room, too, and ordered his own drink, slipping a large tip to Woody along with it. Marie greeted him and said she recognized him as "Whitey," an old friend from her past who was very good with big money. She introduced Woody to Whitey and told him about the business ventures of her old friend. Woody, who now considered Whitey a friend himself, was very interested in giving the young man a chance to win some big money in the back room, and after Marie left, he told Whitey about the games in the back of the hotel and said he might be willing to give him an opportunity to win big back there.

Whitey said he would think about it, and then he left the lounge to go to his room in the Hotel. Woody didn't know what "Whitey" was actually doing during his absence, figuring that he was just having a good time with his girlfriend, but a little less than an hour later, Whitey came back and offered one more big tip to the bartender. Woody decided that Whitey was ready, and led him to the storage room, where he frisked him and told the man behind the barred door that he had a new player for them.

The rest of the evening passed slowly but peacefully for the most part, with Whitey presumably enjoying himself playing poker with some of the boys, possibly Otto, Gene, and Frank themselves. A while later, Whitey returned and gave a secret password to Woody, "Frank sent me." That meant that he wanted to play the bigger game in the private room, which Woody obliged him.

More of the evening passed. At one point, though, shortly before Woody was going to retire for the night, he heard gunfire in an upstairs room. It can't be! Did Bains discover a cop on the loose in his suite? Could "Whitey" be that cop? He didn't have long to think about it, though, as two police detectives barged into the cocktail lounge with their guns drawn. The crowd screamed. The cops told them to stay put and not to interfere, while another one placed Woody under arrest for owning and abetting an illegal gambling establishment in cohorts with Jessie Hiram Bains, the "Death Angel." He also learned that the so-called "Whitey" _was_ a cop, named Sonny Bonds, who had been on the trail of Bains for some time.

Over the next few days, Woody Roberts realized that his career as a gambling man in Lytton was over. It was a shame that a man couldn't run the kind of business he liked to run in town. He rather liked the idea of having fun playing cards with tough guys, and now he had lost that dream. But, he admitted to himself, Bains' drug dealing was a worse crime; in that, people were actually being hurt and killed. That, and his desire to avoid a long jail sentence, led Woody to a decision. It would get him on Bains' bad side, for sure, but it had to be done. He turned states evidence and agreed with the police to serve as a witness for the prosecution at Bains' trial in return for a suspended jail sentence.

He provided convincing testimony at the trial concerning the gambling activities of Jessie Bains, Otto Lipschitz, and Gene Bamboni, ensuring that Otto and Gene would also get long prison sentences. In return, Roberts' sentence was suspended as he had hoped it would be, and he received three years probation on which he'd have to do good behavior and not get involved in any further criminal activities. Bains was sentenced to ninety-seven years in prison without possibility of parole. Woody was relieved that it was mostly over, but he noticed the withering looks that Bains gave him and the other witnesses who testified against him. Somehow, Woody had a bad feeling that this may not be completely over yet.

After that, Woodrow Roberts was seen in public for several days dressed in expensive but old, ill-fitting clothes. It was a solid indication that he had been well off once, but no longer. Well, he supposed that that was what happened when someone like him unquestioningly got involved with crime. Crime paid initially if you were good enough at it, but in the end, you always lose everything you won.

"Oh, how I wish I had taken a job in Nevada when I had the chance!" he said to himself with his head in his hands at home.


	3. Vengeance and Death

**Chapter 3: Vengeance and Death**

Life sure was dull for a man who had lost his gambling business, and who also had two years left of probation before he could be free from the watchful eyes of the law enforcement authorities.

Woody Roberts now lived in an apartment somewhere in downtown Lytton, with some memorabilia from his days as a cocktail lounge bartender decorating it. Life hadn't been completely bad for him, though. He had managed to get some clothes that were new and fit him better, even though they were less fancy than his old clothes, and he had also gained a few friends who practiced legitimate businesses and ways of life. Some of them had reminded him that card playing didn't always have to be associated with gambling, and they had played some games of Bridge, Rummy, Hearts, and even Crazy Eights together, with Woody winning a surprising number of times.

Life was better in some ways, yes. Woody didn't even hold much ill will against Bonds or Marie for just doing their jobs when they exposed him, Otto, Gene, and Bains as crooks. He was the fool, not they, for getting involved with such a deadly criminal. Woody was not very religious, but deep down, he felt like that experience in court had been somewhat redemptive for him, cleansing him of the dirt that he had received from committing crimes.

Nonetheless, deep down inside, he longed for the day that he could leave Lytton and start fresh in another part of the country. He still felt the urge to do some gambling and earn a fortune, because as clean as his new life was, it was still a bit too humdrum for his tastes. Maybe sometime after his probation was over, he could move to Nevada at last and become a dealer in Vegas, Reno, or even Tahoe. He still wanted to gamble, but he wanted to do it within the boundaries of the law this time. No way was he going to get arrested again for anything, as long as he could help it.

But then, one day, he received a letter from someone named William Cole, who wanted to offer him some kind of business. Woody thought about it. "What the heck?" he said to himself. "I still want a fresh start somewhere other than here, but a good business might be good for making me enough money to get out of town when my probation has run out."

So he got in his car and drove to the return address, 753 Third St., The Snuggler's Inn. The clerk told him that Mr. Cole was staying in room 108. Hoping that the business offer was legit, and ready to refuse it if it wasn't, Woody knocked on the door. The door opened, but he couldn't see anyone in the doorway. He stepped inside to look around…

And was suddenly met with a pistol behind his head. Woody tensed up and heard an all too familiar voice say, "We could have remained friends, Woody. I would have gladly helped you get out of prison and get back in business somewhere, if only you hadn't suckered up to those scumbag cops and lawyers. But now, well, it's too late. Still, it's always good to go out on a high note, as I once said to Bonds. Start singing, traitor!"

Before he could protest, a bullet from Bains' gun hit Woody in the back of the head, a very professional shot, and Woody slumped to the floor dead.

His last thoughts were once again that he would very much have preferred to go to Vegas or Reno when he had the chance…


End file.
